Challenge Accepted: Spencer Gets a Date
by myshipsaretitanics
Summary: A story for a challenge my friend Dalton offered to anyone wanting to write about him and any character. Dalton and Reid meet and start dating. Rated T for now, but might go up in later chapters. Eventually, Reid/Dalton Morgan/Garcia Emily/JJ
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note/Obligatory Disclaimer: **My friend Dalton posted this challenge for anyone to write a fanfic about him and any character of our choosing. Our group of friends loves Criminal Minds and are kind of obsessed with MGG, so I thought this would be a great opportunity to take a break from studying, exercise my writing, and fangirl over the idea of one of my best friend's dating Reid. Enjoy.

Also, I, unfortunately, do not own Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid or any of the other characters. If I did, there would be a good possibility of JJ and Prentiss being together and Morgan and Garcia would definitely be a thing. But, sadly, and obviously, they are not.

* * *

Dalton looked up from his screen and watched the man pass in front of him, as he did almost every morning. He was handsome; tall, and lanky, with hair that could only be described as swooshy and a style very similar to Dalton's own. The similarities didn't stop there, though Dalton was in his early twenties, and the other man looked as though he was in his late twenties, both shared a boy-like face.

"Why don't you just talk to him," said a woman as she sat down across from Dalton.

Dalton shook his head, like he was waking up from a daze. "Huh? Oh, and good morning to you too, Sam."

"I said, why don't you just talk to him."

Dalton shook his head again. "No, I couldn't do that. I wouldn't know what to say, I'm 90% sure he's a federal agent, and I'm not 100% sure he's gay."

Sam turned to look at the man, who was waiting in line to order a coffee. She took in his outfit: a nice button up and a dark grey vest over skinny jeans and converse. There was the definite bulge of a holster on his side, but from what she could see, Sam knew that it wasn't a standard-issue Glock. If anything, the gun sticking out of his holster looked like a shiny silver revolver. "Nope. He's gay alright."

Dalton laughed. "You think everyone is gay."

"Touche."

But then, as if to prove a point, the man stepped up to the counter. "Uh hi. Yeah, I'd like a Mocha frappachino with extra chocolate and whipped cream," he said.

Sam sat back in her chair, triumphant. "Not gay huh?"

"Fine," Dalton said, defeated. "I'll talk to him, but what do I say."

Sam thought for a moment. He could just go talk to him, but that didn't seem like a good idea. Finally, she thought of the perfect scenario. "I've got it. Quickly though," she said, as the man was paying for his coffee, while another barista quickly filled his order. "Get up to throw away your trash, but be talking to me and bump into him."

"I don't think that will work," Dalton said.

The man was walking back towards them, and Dalton was making no move to get up, so Sam grabbed his hand and pulled him up, throwing her friend into the poor stranger's lap.

Dalton stumbled a bit and the man reached out to catch his arm. "I am so sorry," Dalton said, trying his best to sound sincere, while trying not to melt into a puddle.

"It's no big deal," the man began. "And yes, I'm gay. I'm also single, and I work for the FBI. Judging from you, you're also gay, and single, but you're probably a psychologist in grad school, am I right?"

Both Dalton and Sam's jaws dropped. Dalton nodded. "But how did you know that?"

The man shrugged. "I'm a profiler."

"I've read about profilers," Dalton said, excited. "But I've never met one before. That is really cool. I'd like to talk to you about what methods you use, and if you prefer the Gideon or Rossi method."

"I'm Spencer Reid," the man laughed, extending his hand.

Dalton eagerly shook it. "I'm Dalton."

"Funny thing about Gideon and Rossi, I've worked with them both."

Dalton looked like he was going to shriek and faint with excitement, maybe not necessarily in that order. "You have?"

"Yeah, I trained under Gideon and SSA Rossi is one of my bosses now," Spencer said while looking at his watch, as if the mention of his boss reminded him that it was almost time for work. "Look, I've got to go, but how about we go get coffee, or maybe dinner sometime."

Dalton held up his finger and walked back over to his seat where he grabbed a pen. When he returned, he held his hand out for Spencer's cup, and the other man obliged. Dalton quickly jotted down a message and sat back down, while Spencer walked away.

As soon as he walked out of the quaint coffee shop he turned his cup around.

_Dalton Williams_

_555-565-2222_

_The Diner on 23rd at 8?_

Spencer just smiled and walked away, knowing he was late for work.

* * *

When he strolled into the bullpen fifteen minutes later, Prentiss and Morgan peeked their heads up, like sharks sniffing fresh blood in the water. Of course, it didn't help that Reid was smiling more than he had been in weeks.

"So," Prentiss said, falling in step behind Reid. "What's his name?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Reid stammered.

"The boy who wrote on your coffee," Morgan said.

"Aww! Does our little boy have a date?" JJ asked, peeking her head out of her office.

Rossi came up behind Reid and clapped him on the back. "Good job, kid."

"Guys," Reid said, "It's nothing, just… Dinner tonight. To discuss profiling with a fellow Psychologist."

"Yeah, uhuh," the whole group said before turning back to their work. Little Reid had a date.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hey guys, this started as a one-shot story but I had an idea to continue it. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

"_This isn't about being smart," Reid said, somewhat bitterly. "This is about doing the right thing."_

_She smiled at him and took another drag of her cigarette, taking some time before casually blowing the smoke towards the young doctor's face. "I did the right thing."_

Spencer jolted awake, the words echoing in his head; the memories resurfacing and re-burning into his mind. For a moment, all Spencer could think about was the date. He looked at his calendar to confirm, and sure enough, he was scheduled to meet with Amanda this weekend. He sighed, organizing the papers on his desk absent-mindedly.

He looked around the bullpen. It was surprisingly quiet, even for this time of night. He could see Prentiss leaning against the frame of JJ's office door. They were probably talking about JJ's latest fight with Will if Emily's ridigid, slightly angry, overly protective stance was anything to go by. Reid sighed inwardly. He was sure that everyone in the office could see the crush Emily and JJ had on each other, except perhaps the two stubborn agents themselves. He continued to look around the bullpen and saw no sign of Morgan and Garcia, deciding they must've went out to dinner. Something tugged at the back of Reid's mind, he was supposed to be somewhere…

As Reid was trying to puzzle it out his Unit Chief, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner stepped out of his office. "Hey Reid, don't you have a date?" Reid snapped out of his head and looked at his watch. Sure enough, he was running late.

###

Dalton walked into the Diner and headed to his normal seat at the bar before stopping, reminding himself that he had a date, and sat in a booth instead.

Alice, the waitress, came over. "You're not in your usual spot, hotshot," she gently teased.

Dalton smiled. Alice knew he was gay, but since he came here at least three or four times a week she insisted on flirting with him, not that he minded so much. In fact, most days he played along, enjoying the flirtatious banter. Tonight, however, was different.

"Nope," he said excitedly, letting a huge grin spread across his face. "Tonight, I have a date."

The bouncy blonde waitress giggled. "Ooh! In that case, I'll leave you alone, but in the meantime, can I get you anything?"

"Just a drink for now, but the usual," he said, nervously checking his watch. He was early, but still, the closer it got to 8:00, the more nervous he became. Alice came back with a cherry coke and Dalton took a sip. He sat for a few minutes before reaching into his Kingdom Heart's shoulder bag. He'd had it since undergrad and couldn't seem to give it up when he'd moved to Virginia for grad school. Besides, Kingdom Hearts was still his all-time favorite video game.

Dalton chose one of the books nestled inside the bag with his laptop. On any other night, he wouldn't have hesitated to pull the device out instead. It wasn't uncommon for him to take advantage of the '50s style diner's free WiFi, which he enjoyed for many reasons, not the least of which being the great irony he felt using modern devices in a diner that probably hadn't change much else in the past 70 years. Tonight, however, Dalton opted to stick with the time period of the diner, pulling out a library book he had checked out on George Metesky which had been written in the late 1950s.

Dalton was fascinated with Metesky and Dr. James Brussel, the criminal psychologist essentially responsible for creating the department his date worked in. Dalton paused, looking up from the book detailing the triumphs and failures of the Mad Bomber, or F.P. A quick glance at his watch told him that the lanky profiler was already five minutes late.

He sighed and returned to the book trying to get the information to absorb into his brain but it was too late, his attention was already focused elsewhere. He placed the book on the table words down to save his page and dug through his bag looking for his phone, pulling several more books on criminology, profiling an various serial killers on the table before finally finding his phone wedged into the bottom corner of the canvas bag.

The flashing light called his attention to a couple of new voicemails. He quickly called his answering machine and dialed his passcode, willing the painfully slow electronic voice to speak faster so he could just listen to his damn messages.

"Hello, Dalton? Yes, this is Johanna Fedders from Worm-tastic Books. I was just calling to let you know that we've received a new shipment of David Rossi's Deviance: The Secret Diaries of—" the woman paused and Dalton could just imagine the look on her face as she called him earlier. To anyone who didn't know that Rossi was working to catch serial killers, the title of his book sounded almost like a guide on how to become one. "Uh—of Sadistic Serial killers. So, you can come pick up a copy at your earliest convenience. Thank you for your business and have a nice day."

The phone beeped to signal the end of the message.

"Hi- uh-" began the new voice, obviously unsure of himself. Unknowingly, Dalton sat up in his seat, recognizing the boy-ish voice even though he'd only heard it a few times. "This is doctor- I mean- this is Spencer Reid, we met at the coffee shop this morning? And anyway, I wanted to tell you that it's 8 now and I'm just leaving the office to I'll be there. Don't- uh- don't leave. I'll be there. Uh- yeah, bye."

The phone beeped again and the automated voice returned, prompting Dalton to choose what to do with his messages.

###

Spencer tugged at the bottom of his vest and straightened his tie, taking a deep breath. The last time one of his team met someone at a coffee shop, they ended up getting shot. But, Reid was a profiler and, as good as Garcia was at reading people through computers, she was not good at reading actual humans. Or, at least, not as good as Reid. The profiler started towards the diner door. He had decided to go on this date, or whatever they were calling it, partially to get his mind off the weekend's trip down to Florida. Either way, he was determined to go through with is now. Besides, this kid didn't read like a psychopath or sociopath, let alone a serial killer.

A bell chimed as he pushed open the door. He looked around the small resteraunt and found the man he was searching for. Dalton was engaged in his phone. He would listen for a few moments, smile and press a few buttons. Various books littered the table. Some of them Spencer recognized as books written by his co-workers or books that were required for profiling classes. Others were just simple, one color covers with taped spines, though, if he had to wager a guess, Reid assumed they were on the same subject matter as the other books.

He approached the table and craned his neck to see the faded gold print on the spine of a book that was propped open. He wasn't surprised to find that he recognized the title, nor was he surprised to find that his hypothesis about the subject matter was correct. Reid cleared his throat. "Um, hi," he said sheepishly, his voice cracking a bit on the second word.

Dalton looked up. After a brief moment of confusion, a smile spread across his face. "Hi," he said, excitedly before gesturing to the seat across from him. The action must have reminded him about the five or six books on the table because he immediately blurted out, "Sorry about the mess, I was looking for my phone earlier and I guess I got distracted and forgot to put them away."

Spencer smiled back at him. "It's no problem. Interesting choices," he said as he slid into the booth.

Dalton shrugged as he packed the books away into a bag underneath the table. "I'm trying to decide the topic for my dissertation and I'm heavily leaning towards the idea of councilling victims of serial crimes, and possibly the people commiting those crimes as well."

Reid nodded, trying to show interest in the idea, but he was more preoccupied with taking the other man in. Dalton was shorter than himself by at least four or five inches. He was small, but not scrawny and he wore t-shirts that were a little baggier. Dalton's reddish brown hair was about the same length as Reid's, but straight instead of curly.

"So," Dalton said, finally sitting down. "Would you like anything to eat?"

Reid's stomach growled at the mention of food. "Actually, yes."

Dalton smiled, "Great." He looked over his shoulder and located the waitress. "Hey, Alice can you come get our order?"

The waitress nodded. She came and took the mens' orders and when she returned with Spencer's drink a few minutes later the two were already discussing profiling theories in depth.

Reid was astounded by the other man's knowledge. "How old are you?" he asked suddenly.

Dalton almost choked on his drink. "I don't think that's a really appropriate question…"

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I really meant to ask why you don't, or haven't, applied to the FBI Academy."

"Oh. That's easy. I've thought about it, but I'm not sure I could pass the physical. Besides, I really want to be a counselor."

Reid nodded. "Oh." He dropped the subject, instead changing the topic to the other man's interest.

Now it was Dalton's turn to get excited, as he found the handsome profiler sitting across from him was well versed in Harry Potter, the Hunger Games and even Star Wars. "Okay, here is the big question. Category: Video Games. Topic: Kingdom Hearts. Go."

Reid thought a moment. "You know, I actually am a big fan of the Kingdom Hearts game," he finally said, almost afraid of the younger man's reaction.

Dalton resisted the urge to jump across the table, screaming "LET ME LOVE YOU," whilst wrapping the man in his arms, settling for a squeaky "You're the best." Immediately, Dalton could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks but he was happy to see the effect mirrored by the other man.

By the end of the night, Reid and Dalton were talking like old friends, and after exchanging numbers, email addresses and Facebook friend requests, they settled on an actual date for the following Monday, but agreed to text each other in the meantime.

As both men walked to their cars, they smiled into the night. Somehow, they both knew the last two days of the work week and the weekend would fly by in a breeze.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Hi guys! This chapter might get a little confusing. If the text is bold, that's Dalton texting, if it's italiziced, that's Spencer texting. I'll do initials for a while, but not for the whole thing. I mean, I have to get through the weekend…

###

Spencer wasn't even half way to his car when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

**Dalton: I had a great time tonight, thanks for coming.**

He quickly typed out another message.

_Spencer: No, thank you for inviting me, and for being so great to talk to._

**D: Really, it was my pleasure. :P**

Spencer shook his head at the younger man's use of text-speak, but at least he knew what this one meant. He got into his car and drove away, immediately texting the younger man as soon as his foot hit the pavement of the parking garage for his condo. They kept texting. While Spencer got out of his worked clothes, while he was brushing his teeth, and while he was changing for bed. Soon, the agent found himself in his boxers and tank top still texting the man who had intrigued his mind, and just maybe touched his heart.

**Yeah, my first class is at 11 tomorrow, but I have to go talk to the prof I'm researching with sometime, so I haven't quite figured when I'll be up yet.**

_That's fine. I'll have to be up and at Quantico by 7 or 8 though. So, I'm going to let you go. Talk to you tomorrow?_

**Of course. Hey, thanks again for coming out with me tonight.**

_It was nothing. I actually enjoyed myself. Haha._

**Good. Well, I'll let you go get some sleep. Good night.**

_Yeah, night._

Spencer yawned and sat his phone on the bedside table.

###

Dalton's alarm jarred him into consciousness. Still half-asleep, his hand shot out to hit the snooze button. He stretched and yawned, much like a cat after waking up from a nap, before heading to the bathroom. After going through his wake-up routine Dalton sat on the edge of his bed, taking the time to remember the last night in detail. It had been magnificent.

The phone on his bedside table buzzed. He picked it up and saw two messages.

_Good morning! I was just on my way to work and I figured I'd text you. Anyway, talk to you later?_

Dalton smiled. He had been on the boy-genius's mind this morning. The second message, though, was a little worse.

_Hey, I don't know if you got my earlier message or… Just, I wanted to let you know that we're flying to Oklahoma for a case and so my phone will be off until around 1 or 2. _

Dalton looked at the clock. It was only ten now. He sighed and shook his head, determined to make the most of the day.

###

As soon as the team landed, Reid had his phone out to check the time. He knew that the team could technically have their phones on during flights, but he always turned his off just in case. Messages suddenly flooded his inbox, but only one caught his eye.

**Stay safe, and I don't know, text me when you land?**

_We're here and I'll do my best. _

The reply was almost instantaneous.

**I'm glad you're safe. You kind of had me worried.**

_It's only noon here, so that's what, one at home?_

**Yeah, but I'm secretly afraid of airplanes. So… I was still worried.**

Reid shook his head and gathered his luggage as the team gathered into two black SUV's and went to solve the case. He was sure that there was a bigger reason behind Dalton being worried, but the only way to find out was to continue their conversation.

###

_We're back in D.C._

**Have a good trip?**

_Not really, it's surprisingly hot in Oklahoma._

**Aww, boy-genuis can't handle a little heat? :P**

_Sure I can! Just not 65 degree weather in March…_

**I think that sounds wonderful.**

_I'll trade you. I'm getting off one plane to immediately get onto another bound for an even hotter destination._

**Where are you going now?**

_Florida. _

**Why?**

_We worked a case there a few years back and I visit one of the people involved in it._

**Oh.**

_What? By the way, I'm at the airport about to leave so if I don't text back, that's why._

**Nothing. I just… Well, it doesn't take a profiler to realize that you're not telling me the whole story. But, I figure you'll tell me when you're ready. Stay safe.**

It took a while for Spencer to respond, but Dalton shrugged it off, knowing that the other man was probably flying off to Florida.

_Made it. You're a great guy, you know that?_

**Stop it, you're making me blush. **

_You are._

**No, I'm a decent human being, there is a difference.**

_I think you're both._

Dalton stared at the screen. Did he really just read those words? Could the boy-genius have feelings for him? He carefully thought out a response, and had it all typed up, ready to go, before shaking his head and typing a more simple answer.

**So are you.**

The time seemed to slow down and Dalton glanced at his phone three or four times to see that the time had still not changed. It wasn't even a minute before the profiler responded, but Dalton felt that he had waited almost a lifetime.

_Thanks. Maybe we'll talk about the differences over dinner for our date on Monday? My treat._

Dalton couldn't help but smile. He remembered that they had decided on a date for Monday, but it was late Saturday evening, and neither had brought it up.

**Sure. Where?**

_It's a surprise. Why don't I pick you up around 8?_

**Alright. I'm in apartment 221B at the corner of Thomas and Jefferson.**

_That is an AWESOME apartment number._

**Yeah, I know.**

Dalton smiled. Not only did he have a date with an intelligent, smart, funny and caring boy, he had gotten the reference of his apartment number, which always made him smile.


End file.
